By Your Side
by LazalotAnreads
Summary: When Harry is nearly killed, Draco finally sees the light.


Title: By Your Side

Author: Lazalot_Anreads

Beta: dracovontrapp

Characters/Pairings: Draco/Harry

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,224

Challenge: None

Summary: When Harry is nearly killed, Draco finally sees the light.

Notes: AU 6th Year, Mentions of Suicide

Was Harry Potter immortal? Draco couldn't help but wonder as he watched, stunned and (though he would never admit it) feeling very guilty, as his rival plummeted Merlin only knew how many feet to the Quidditch field. He hadn't meant to knock into Potter so hard; despite what the Weasel always said, Draco was not evil and he didn't want Potter dead.

Draco was as still as a Muggle statue. He hovered for what seemed like hours, watching the staff gather around the Golden Boy. He'd actually been _impaled_ by his broom, and they were trying to stop the flow of blood from his left side, but it didn't look good. Draco didn't know what to do. Would Potter die again? And if he did, would he wake up again, as well?

Suddenly, Draco found himself pushing his way past the angry mob of students and teachers, totally deaf to their shouts and threats. He got to his knees beside his best enemy, feeling sick as he looked into Potter's glassy green eyes. "I'm sorry," he whispered, "I didn't mean it." Draco didn't feel the tears sliding down his cheeks, nor did he hear the gasps and whispers from the crowd around him.

Potter coughed, a thin trickle of blood flowing from the corner of his mouth. "I know," he choked out, trying to smile. "Don't worry about it, Malfoy. I'll live. It's my curse."

"Are you immortal?" The words slipped out before Draco could stop them, and he felt his cheeks flush. He looked away, mentally shaking his embarrassment off before turning back. "Are you?"

"Mr. Malfoy," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, resting her hand on his shoulder. "We need to get Mr. Potter to the hospital wing. He's lost a lot of blood." That said, she pulled Draco back and levitated Potter onto the stretcher that seemed to have come from nowhere. Draco watched her head in the direction of the hospital wing for a moment, Potter floating along beside her, before he shook himself and ran after them.

'Where are his friends?' Draco wondered, sitting in the waiting room while the nurse tended to Potter. 'Why am I here?' But he didn't have an answer to either of those questions, so he tried to think about something else, and just … waited. It seemed like an eternity before Madam Pomfrey finally let him in, and when he saw Harry, he couldn't stop his gasp of surprise.

Draco, of all people, knew what magic could do, but he was still stunned to see his rival lying in the hospital bed, looking a bit pale, but otherwise fine. He pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down, keeping his hands clasped in his lap by sheer force of will. He wanted to touch, check the other boy himself, make sure he was really alive and whole. For a long time, he didn't say anything, and they just stared at each other. After a minute or so, Draco just couldn't stand it. "I'm really sorry, Potter."

"Not your fault," Potter said awkwardly, looking away. "Accidents happen, Malfoy."

"You almost died!" Draco practically yelled, shaking his head in disbelief. He lowered his voice. "I-I almost k-killed you."

"You can't kill me, Malfoy," Harry said tiredly, gazing out the window. The sun was setting; it was beautiful. "Only Voldemort can kill me."

"Wh-what? What the bloody hell are you talking about?!"

"A stupid, fucked up prophecy, that's what!" Harry turned an angry glare on him.

"'_Neither can live while the other survives.'_ Some bullshit Trelawney came up with – only it's not. It's real."

He sounded so certain, and Draco didn't understand why. Professor Trelawney was always predicting Potter's 'doomed fate.' Why would he believe her this time? Unless – "You tried to kill yourself!" Draco's throat tightened and this time he couldn't stop himself; he reached out with both hands and pulled Harry's face up so he could see his eyes. "You _did_!"

"What's it to you, Malfoy?" Potter spat, jerking away. "You act like you bloody _care_ or something! Just get out!"

Draco sat back, head spinning and mouth open to say something, _anything_. But for the first time in his life, words wouldn't come. 'He's given up. Harry bloody Potter is sitting in front of me, pretty much telling me he _doesn't care if he dies_!'

Potter sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose and turning to look out the window again. "Shouldn't you be with the other Slytherins, gloating about how you almost killed the fucking Boy Who Lived?"

"You're just going to give up?" Draco finally choked out, gripping the arms of his chair so hard his fingers went numb. "Just like that?"

"I'm not a killer." Potter's shoulders were shaking, and Draco was shocked to realize he was crying – they both were. "I'm not a hero, either. I'm just a kid, Malfoy."

Before Draco realized what he was doing, he found himself in the bed beside Pot – beside Harry, holding him tightly and resting his chin on top of the other boy's head.

They sat like that for a long time, taking comfort in the embrace.

After a while, though, Harry began to speak. "Dumbledore told me about it at the end of last term. Told me I had to kill someone – kill or be killed, he said, as if that would somehow make it _easy_. I'm just a kid!" Harry tightened his grip around Draco's waist, shuddering. "I haven't even finished school yet! I can't beat him, Malfoy, I know I can't."

"Yes you can," Draco said fiercely, holding Harry so tightly it was a wonder the boy could even breathe. "You've done it before –"

"I got lucky, that's all." Harry pulled back to look up at Draco. "I can't survive on luck alone."

"So we'll come up with a plan!" Draco shook him. "I'll help you, okay? I won't let that – that _freak_ kill you! Okay?!"

"Your father follows Voldemort," Harry shook his head, astonishment clear on his face. "You're telling me you'd fight your own _father_ for me? Harry Potter, the same guy you've hated since you were eleven years old? I don't believe it."

"My father is wrong, Harry," Draco's shoulders slumped. "And he's in Azkaban, anyway, remember? We won't be fighting him – not anytime soon, anyway."

"Voldemort will win, Mal – Draco." Harry looked down, obviously uncomfortable – whether from using Draco's given name or talking about Voldemort, or both, Draco didn't know and didn't particularly care. "He's too strong. All the luck and planning in the world wouldn't bring him down – he'll just keep coming back. I'm tired of it."

"No," Draco denied. He tipped Harry's face to his own and looked directly into emerald green-eyes. "I won't let you quit. You'll win this thing, I know you will, and I'll be right there, by your side, through the whole bloody thing."

"And what if I don't? What if I get you killed? What if –" Harry was cut off with a kiss so sweet and hot, his toes actually curled.

"I don't know what this is, Harry," Draco confessed huskily when he finally pulled back. "But I'm in it now, whether you like it or not. If I die, I die by your side." He kissed him again. "But I'd rather _live_ by your side."


End file.
